iGo Camping
by Nero Shrimp
Summary: SLASH Freddie/Spencer: Friendship/Angst  The idea of Spence camping baffled and frightened me. Would Spencer survive even one night in the great outdoors? Carly laughed good-naturedly, "I think he'd really enjoy himself." I shrugged, "I guess I could ask.
1. Gibby's Good News

iGo Camping

Freddie P.O.V.

Freddie/Spencer friendship, pre-slash, eventually romance/angst

Author's Note: Written without permission or affiliation with iCarly, its creators, and its owners. This story is for entertainment purposes only.

This is my attempt at moving Spencer and Freddie into a relationship **slowly**. I plan for this to be a longer story than I usually write. It was inspired by a recent trip to Canada.

* * *

The following background will be helpful/important in understanding the characters in _my_ iCarly universe:

Mr. and Mrs. Shay were killed in a car accident when Spencer was 16 and Carly was 5. The kids lived with their grandparents until Spencer was 18 and took guardianship of Carly. Using his inheritance to rent the apartment they now own, Spencer put himself through college just short of graduation. He now supports himself and Carly on commissioned art work.

Mr. Benson divorced Mrs. Benson when Freddie was 7. Freddie has not seen his father since.

Spencer is in an established relationship with Socko. Only Mrs. Benson is aware of the status of their relationship.

* * *

When Gibby slipped me a flyer for the father-son camping trip, my first instinct was to crumple the invitation in my fist. _Thanks, but no thanks_. The last time I spent quality time with my father, I was seven and he was telling me that he was divorcing my mom to remarry. I hated him then and I have never forgiven my mom for having us keep his name.

Gibby explained that his Boy Scout Troop goes camping each year right after school ends for the Summer. "That's nice," I said, stuffing the flyer between notebooks in my bag. I had no intention of exploring the topic further. But Gibby sure was persistent, and perceptive.

"Some of the dads can't get off of work, so the guys come with older brothers or relatives as their sponsor. But it's strictly boys-only." Gibby's smile spread from ear to ear. He clearly enjoyed the camping trips and was looking forward to this one. "I know you're not into the Scouts anymore, but my dad said I could invite you."

I blinked, "Why did he say that?"

"Aw, come on, man," Gibby slapped me on the back. "You're my best friend."

I was shocked. _When had I slipped into Gibby's high esteem?_ I thought he merely put up with me to get closer to Carly.

When I didn't respond right away, Gibby started to get nervous. "Cool," I mumbled, forcing a smile. I did not want the responsibility of being Gibby's BFF, but deliberately hurting a friend is against my character.

"Cool," Gibby was smiling again. "Show your dad the flyer and gimme a call when you make up your mind." I received another slap on the back before Gibby turned to hand out more flyers to his troop-mates.

I found Carly waiting for me at my locker. Apparently Gibby had told her the good news. The final bell had rung announcing last call for busing students. Amid our excited classmates scurrying through the halls, backpacks loaded with textbooks and empty lunch bags, Carly wore a look of concern. "I heard about the trip," she began cautiously. "Is it something you want to do?"

I raised an eyebrow, "Seriously?" I knew I shouldn't be getting huffy with her, but she had been fully away of my situation with(out) my father since 2nd grade.

Carly frowned, "Gibby mentioned you were acting funny."

Shaking my head, I twisted the combination 02, 14, 00. It didn't escape notice that the combination was Valentine's date. I had been meaning to reprogram it since school started in the Fall. Someone at the manufacturer probably thought he was clever. Rolling my eyes at myself, I realized Carly was still talking. I nodded for her to continue and gave her more attention.

"I bet Spencer would go with you." Carly looked over her armful of textbooks.

I swapped my science textbook for history and pushed the locker shut until it clicked. I took a few books from Carly to lighten her load. "Spencer? Camping?" The idea baffled and frightened me. _Would Spencer survive even one night in the great outdoors?_

Carly laughed good-naturedly. "I think he'd really enjoy himself."

I shrugged, "I guess I could ask him."

Carly's grin spread, taking over her round face. "Alright, just don't put it off for the last minute." We both knew how frantic Spencer became when things were sprung on him without ample notice.

I was nodding as I followed Carly to our car. Since turning sixteen, the two of us had pooled our money to purchase a used SUV. We had tried to write a schedule so each of us would have equal access to our new found freedom, but since we did practically everything together, any formal schedule was pushed aside. Our best friend Sam was forbidden to drive our car, for insurance (and peace-of-mind) purposes.

Carly walked around to the passenger side and I took out my set of keys. We climbed into the car and tuned the radio while we waited on Sam. It was not uncommon for our trouble-making friend to be held after school by this or that teacher for a few minutes.

I can't say that we were all that surprised when Sam burst from the school at full sprint, juggling a backpack and an aquarium that I was sure held some kind of creature.

"Go, go, go!" Sam shouted in my ear as she threw herself and her luggage into the backseat. I did as I was told and brought us home safely, if not as quickly as Sam would have liked. Pulling into the apartment building's lot, I glared at Sam through the rear-view mirror. "What is that thing?"

Sam's jaw dropped. "This _thing_ is a baby guinea pig; a cute cuddly guy who was being treated cruelly by some stupid 7th graders."

I watched Sam skeptically as she pet the furry animal. I didn't think same knew a damn thing about keeping a guinea pig alive. Carly, Sam, and I walked through the lobby with our hands full.

Lewbert, ever watchful, eyed us with suspicion. "No pets," he sneered from behind the counter. He had learned to keep his distance from Sam, but insisted on upholding his law.

Sam made a rude gesture toward the doorman and told him to "shove it." Lewbert decided that a baby guinea pig wasn't such a big deal after all.

Pleased with her self, Sam followed us into the waiting elevator and our gang made it to the Shay apartment without further incident. The girls retired to the studio, cooing over their rescue and hiding it from Spencer. It was my job to distract our friend and guardian while they decided where the piglet would stay.

Hearing movement in the kitchen, I called out across the living room. "Spencer, is that you?" _Who else could it be_, I chided myself.

"Yeah!" A strangled cry came from the tiled floor behind a counter.

I jogged over the few steps to find Spencer sprawled out on the floor with a frying pan held at-the-ready.

"I saw a mouse." Spencer was breathing heavily and his eyes were wild.

I moved toward him slowly. Stepping over his body, I took the frying pan and gently lay it on the counter-top. "Carly and I can pick up some traps for the kitchen later on." I kept my voice cool and even. It sounded like I was mocking Spencer, but as always, I took his intensity seriously.

Spencer did not put up a fight, but still had a frazzled energy about him. The circles under his eyes and sagging shoulders gave pause to my thoughts. "Look exhausted," I pulled out a chair at the kitchen table, motioning for him to take the seat.

Spencer looked at me a moment from the floor and the hard lines in his face relaxed. As the man walked toward me, and the chair I held, I felt compelled to listen in on his thoughts. But I am no telepath and had to resign to hear what Spencer had to say, not what he was thinking. "Been having trouble in the art department."

My spastic friend was always worrying about deadlines and the satisfaction of his clients. It looked like this particular commission was fraying Spencer's nerves. "It's this piece I am working on for a collector. He's been really specific; I feel like I'm missing the mark."

I nodded and gave his shoulders a squeeze and Spencer collapsed into the seat in front of me. I walked around the chair to face him. "I don't suppose you'd want to get a way for a few days," my voice was low, doubtful.

"Are you kidding?" Spencer's eyes gave a faint sparkle. "I'd love to get my mind off work. I was on my way to go for a walk through the park when that rodent ran in from the hallway."

_Ah, the mouse_. "Well, we can still go for that walk," I said, reaching out to him. "There's a hardware store on the way; we can get that trap."

Spencer brought his eyebrows together in thought. He seemed to be second guessing his time allowance for leisure. "Okay," he said, finally. It was another moment before Spencer pushed himself to his feet.

I led the way out of the apartment as Spencer grabbed his wallet and keys. He called up the stairs to his sister, "Carly, I'm going out with Freddie! Text me in an emergency."

Carly gave a holler back before Spencer stepped away from the staircase. I allowed myself a small smile as I observed responsible!Spencer in action.

* * *

Our walk was quiet and I found keeping Spencer's pace was agreeable. I felt a surge of pride having experienced a growth spurt and the resulting longer stride. My body felt mature though I was becoming increasingly aware of the way Spencer guarded me like a child. His arm thrust across my chest more than once to warn me of traffic I had acknowledged on my own. He walked a step ahead and moved with high alert. It felt kind of silly. I wasn't afraid of Seattle's streets, certainly not the area where I grew up. Watching Spencer I felt a jolt of unease. _Maybe Spencer was aware of a danger I did not yet know._ It seemed a ludicrous thought, and I pushed the idea from my conscious.

Moving from the sidewalk to a grassy incline, Spencer led us to the rock wall that ensconced the park. Spencer took my hand in his, helping me keep steady on the wobbly rocks. Sure, there were gates and trails at the North and South ends of the park, but this was faster. And it seemed like Spencer was familiar with this short-cut. Within a few feet we were surrounded by trees and underbrush. Spencer squeezed my hand; I think it was to assure me that everything was alright. But the contact caught me off-guard. _Had he been holding my hand this entire time?_ Spencer caught me staring at our clasped hands, but didn't react.

"There's a trail a little further in," He smiled and let go of my hand to point our direction.

I followed him, a pace or two behind. He held branches for me and knew where steady footing was hiding. I pictured Spencer with a kerchief tied around his neck and hiking boots over his glowing socks. Then I remembered the reason I had sought out Spencer's company.

"Gibby and the other eagle scouts are going camping in a few weeks. I think the site is just across the border into Canada."

Spencer turned to face me, his expression was all longing and reminiscence. "Wow. I would give anything to have a camping weekend." His face became more serious as he looked at me, "You should go, Freddie."

I shrugged and looked away, "It's a father-son thing." I had said enough. Spencer knew all about my absentee father. When my mom needed consoling or a babysitter for me, Spencer had been a great neighbor to have. Just when he inherited guardianship of Carly, at 18, Spencer took me under his wing as well. I remembered playing with Carly at his feet, surrounded by law books and LSAT prep work. I found myself wondering if Spencer ever thought of those days. _Probably likes sculpting better than law anyway._ Although, both jobs have deadlines and clients to keep life stressful.

Spencer didn't say anything for a while which, I guess, meant he saw I had retreated into my head to dissect memories. I sighed and took longer strides to catch up. I kept up with Spencer's pace without trouble on pavement, but the forest floor was far from even. As I stepped the final length to stand beside Spencer, I was panting. "Carly suggested you might be able to be my sponsor."

"Sponsor?" Spencer spoke absently as he stepped onto a cleared trail and began to move again.

"My guardian while we're camping." I couldn't see his expression, and the silence made me nervous. I started to babble. "Some of he dads weren't able to request off work, so brothers or uncles are going as sponsors." I let out a short sigh, "I guess since you're kind of both, you could be my sponsor."

I caught a brief nod from my companion as he led the way to the center of the park. It was early evening and the air was full of the happy chatter of families picnicking in the clearings. _Was I wrong to think of Spencer as family?_ "I wouldn't have asked if Carly hadn't suggested it first." _Why was I embarrassed, second guessing myself?_

Spencer's pace slowed by a fraction. He didn't address me until we were sitting on a small dock. _Dock? _The pond hardly merited a dock, or a bridge, though it was fixed with both. I heard my name and looked up from the wood boards beneath me.

"Freddie," Spencer held my gaze easily. "You don't need anyone's permission to talk to me. You can ask me anything. I'll always help you if I can."

I nodded and thought he was taking things too seriously again. Or, maybe I really was being naïve. _About what?_ I wasn't sure.

"I'd really enjoy sponsoring you for that camping trip," Spencer grinned, the corners of his mouth nearly reaching his eyes.

"Yes!" My fist moved of its own volition as it made contact with Spencer's arm. I hadn't realized how much I was hoping to go camping; I surprised myself.

Spencer watched my excitement with a kind smile. He threw his arm across my shoulders briefly and suggested we walk the perimeter of the pond. The sun was setting to the West and I kept my gaze on the treetop horizon. "Bring me whatever I need to sign and we'll be in business." Spencer paused before adding, "I need to go shopping."

I looked down at his sandaled feet and cargo shorts. We laughed and started a list of items we'd need to purchase before our trip.

* * *

Spencer and I ended up spending a lot of time together in the weeks prior to the camp out. I went with him to renew our passports one day and we shopped for fishing gear the next.

Today we walked through Campmor looking for a tent, packs, and sleeping bags. The associate on the store floor offered to teach us how to pack our rucksacks, but I could tell Spencer was getting antsy. We had already spent a few hours shopping and Spencer hated being away from his current sculpting project for too long. Spencer's moods fluctuated, I noticed. Some days we'd spend hours picking out lures and bait hooks. Other days, even an hour of talking in the living room made Spencer anxious to return to his art studio/bedroom.

_When the muse strikes_, I shrugged inwardly. "Thanks, man." I smiled at the Campmor salesman. "We'll keep the offer in mind. Just don't have time tonight." I pointed at the associate as if committing his face to memory. Then, Spencer and I slid out of the double doors toward the parking lot.

I could tell from Spencer's grim expression that he was feeling guilty about taking his client's money and spending time doing anything other than the sculpture. Spencer tossed me his keys and I was glad I had been watching him. I caught the projectile deftly and my eyes went wide. Spencer had never let me drive his car. Once or twice he had taken me out in my mom's car to practice for the driver's test. But he hadn't entrusted me with his own car before.

Opening the driver's side door, I smiled at Spencer. "I guess we'll part ways when we get home. I have to get cracking on my homework."

Spencer looked relieved that I was giving him a way out. It took many years of knowing Spencer not to be offended by his eccentric attention span. It's not that he was bored with me. Spencer was ready to focus on his sculpture for a bit; I knew he would contact me when he needed a distraction.


	2. A Walk in the Park

iGo Camping

Freddie P.O.V.

Freddie/Spencer friendship, pre-slash, eventually romance/angst

Author's Note: Written without permission or affiliation with iCarly, its creators, and its owners. This story is for entertainment purposes only.

* * *

-.-

I knew Spencer would find me when he became too frustrated or bored with his sculpture. But I didn't expect a cryptic text to wake me around midnight. Final exams begin Monday and I had fallen asleep on my desk while studying. My phone buzzed again in my pocket as I rubbed sleep from my eyes.

I pulled out my cell lazily, expecting a text from Verizon telling me my bill was ready. Instead, I got an S.O.S. message from Spencer's number. _Interesting_, I thought calmly. I figured there was no need to move quickly, considering it would take less than a minute to walk from my bedroom across the hall.

I pushed open the door and came face to face with Spencer. His eyes were wide, expressing to me urgency and importance. "What's wrong?" I closed the door quietly, leaving us in the quiet hallway.

"It's… today."

I nodded to mask my confusion.

"Franklin Todd is coming today to pick up his sculpture."

_Oh! _"Oh." To tell you the truth, I was really glad this commission was over.

Spencer didn't seem as happy as I was. But he wasn't giving me anything more than a worried stare.

"What's wrong?" I asked again, my own anxiety rising. Instead of verbalizing an answer, Spencer pulled me into his apartment.

I stopped in the doorframe because I physically didn't know where it would be safe to stand. The living room was covered in what looked like papier-mâché scraps and crumpled pieces of paper. "Spencer…" _If you don't have anything nice to say, don't say anything at all_, I reminded myself. But I never was good at taking my own advice. "What did you do?"

My eyes scanned the room; the flecks of bright color reminded me of a kaleidoscope and gave me a headache. Then, my eyes focused on a large pile of something. _No, not a pile. That must be the sculpture Spencer is making._ I waited for an explanation.

"Freddie," Spencer looked at me with pleading eyes. His eyes were shimmering with exhaustion, frustration, and possibly tears. "You've got to help me… Please, help me." He reached his hand out toward me, palm up. We weren't close enough to touch, so I nodded from my place at the door.

I took a deep breath and wondered where to begin. Spencer noticed I was awaiting his direction. _Thank goodness._

"Gather a couple cranes and meet me by the piece," he gestured toward the pile. _Hmm, so it was the sculpture. _

Upon closer inspection, I noticed the crumpled pieces of colored paper were in the shape of swans. Or, what did Spencer call them, cranes? I picked up five cranes of different colors and waded through the apartment to where Spencer hovered over his sculpture. Spencer took each crane from me and delicately secured them to the pile of folded papers. "What is this going to be, when we finish?"

Spencer scratched his chin as he contemplated where to place a particularly bright blue crane. I didn't think he had heard my question. But he answered it in his own time. "I'm taking 999 cranes," he pointed to the colorful origami scattered over the apartment floor, "And I am creating one huge crane out of them."

I had no idea what the significance of this was. Spencer explained further, "It's a Japanese tradition. If you fold one thousand cranes, you get to make a wish."

From the looks of the apartment, it seemed that Spencer had enough cranes to earn him a handful of wishes. The thought of him painstakingly folding each tiny bird blew my mind. I gave Spencer a nod of respect before gathering more and more cranes for his sculpture.

Spencer grunted an expression of gratitude as I brought him armfuls of the origami birds. I caught him mouthing the numbers as he counted how many cranes of each color. I tried to bring him colors he hadn't used yet, but keeping up with his pattern was dizzying. My headache got worse as the deadline drew closer, but I didn't complain aloud. "What do you need?" That question passed my lips many times as I scrambled around the living room trying to find cranes that matched Spencer's descriptions and requests.

"Wow."

Hearing Spencer gasp, I spun on my heel to face him. "Wow," I repeated after him. The sculpture was complete. I didn't know what a live crane looked like, so I can't say it was anatomically correct, but the bird in front of Spencer was breathtaking. I would describe the sculpture as half peacock/half phoenix, with an Asian flare. I had no idea what the client, Mr. Todd, had asked Spencer to create, but I felt anyone with any sense would be honored to accept this piece.

Spencer took a step back to admire his work. "It's finally finished." His words came out in a hush. The man stared at the sculpture for a moment before beckoning me to his person. I came up beside him and stood in quiet reverence. A wave of pride washed over me, startling my tired brain. I was proud to be a part of this piece of art.

Spencer threw his arm around me, pulling me closer. He tilted his head toward me and sighed into my shoulder. "I thought I would never…" Another sigh, and then, Spencer looked up at me, "I couldn't have done this without you, Freddie."

I smiled, but it was hard to meet his gaze as his face was mere inches from my own. My eyes flickered to meet his briefly, but then quickly rediscovered the sculpture. I felt Spencer lean into me and plant a light kiss in my hair. It was an affectionate quirk I had witnessed multiple times between Spencer and his sister, and I felt privileged to earn such an intimate response from my friend. He rustled my hair and mumbled something about me needed a trim before peeling his eyes away from the bird.

I grabbed two 15-gallon garbage bags from a drawer in the kitchen and we set out to clear the apartment of the aftermath of hurricane Spencer.

* * *

Please review... thanks!


	3. A Day in the Life

iGo Camping

Spencer/Freddie pre-slash, friendship; eventual angst/romance

Chapter 3

A/N: A special thanks to Shinji Matsuto and EnchantixFae for their encouragement!  
This story was written without consent or affiliation with iCarly, it's creators or owners. Written for entertainment purposes only.

-.-

* * *

I had a hard time keeping my eyes open Monday morning. Spencer and I were up until nearly 4am cleaning his apartment. He seemed to really appreciate the help, so I didn't scoot back to my room until the place looked livable. I took a short nap before waking again to shower and dress for school, which I did in a daze. Carly drove, _Thank God_. And we made it safely and in time for our exams.

Scanning the English exam with a lop-sided grin, I drifted in and out of consciousness. A lack of sleep wasn't the only thing trying my focus. My thoughts were a jumble of colorful wings and books with blank pages.

I had to choose three of five essay questions to answer for the exam. We were given three hours to complete this. _Easy. _I began the exam with confidence, but quickly shifted into panic-mode. It seemed that every time I blinked, another twenty minutes would slip through my fingers. Unfortunately, I couldn't escape the exam even in my sleep. I was dreaming about gothic romances and terrifying childhoods.

I woke confused. My exam booklet was filled with scribble as the proctor informed us we had reached the half-way mark. Scrambling, I wrote down as much as I could about Jane Eyre, Wuthering Heights, and I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings. I wasn't sure if I was answering any of the questions, but I unloaded my knowledge about character development, symbolism, and plot devices until I had filled the blue essay booklet.

Cramming one last sentence into a margin, I looked up at the clock. I had five minutes to spare. I would usually take the time to reread my answers, but not today. I was scared of what I might find written in the pages of my exam book. I didn't want to know that I had failed my first final exam and could do nothing to rectify that. I wondered if I could fake a seizure and use that excuse to retake the exam at a later date. Even as I fantasized about my grand mal, the proctor rang her bell.

"Writing utensils, down. Books, closed. Pass everything to the front." Her voice was flat, bored.

My head hung in shame as I passed my and my classmates' packets forward. The only good thing about exam week was the short school days. I was mildly grateful for the opportunity to go straight home and get some rest. It wasn't until I stepped into the hallway to find Carly heading into another classroom that I realized I would have to return in three hours to pick her up.

_Eh, I could squeeze in a short nap,_ I figured silently.

I drove home as carefully as I could, still unsure of what was dream and what reality. My legs dragged through the lobby and over to the elevator. Lewbert was shouting something as I pushed the glowing button on the wall. I turned, slowly, to face him. His arms waved wildly, but his voice was muffled by my exhaustion.

"Out of order, kid!" Lewbert scurried around his desk and blocked me from entering the elevator. "No go," he exclaimed as the elevator doors binged open.

_What?_ I blinked a few times to bring life into focus. I looked into Lewbert's face and then into the empty elevator shaft. My breath caught in my throat. I stepped backwards away from the heavy doors. Finding Lewbert's face again, I nodded in shock, "Thanks, man." I walked to the stairwell and forced myself up the flights to my floor. My hands gripped the railing as I pulled myself up the final flight of stairs. I just wanted to be home.

Reaching my apartment door, I breathed a sigh of relief. I let myself into my living room and crashed on the couch. Sleep hit me immediately. I slept like a rock and it felt wonderful. I could hear a faint thumping in the distance, but the beat lulled me farther into my dreams.

When my mother burst through the door in a state of heightened anxiety, I knew I was in trouble. My lazy mind couldn't figure out what I had done, but I knew it was bad. "Hi?" I greeted my mother cautiously.

"Oh, don't you 'Hi' me, Fredward Benson." Her mouth was drawn in a hard line as her hands clamped onto her hips.

"Uh," I sat up straighter and caught a glimpse of the clock behind her. _Five o'clock?_ My mother hardly ever makes it home before six. "Oh, shit."

Her fingers snapped in front of my face, startling me. "Language!"

I dragged a hand over my face, willing myself awake. _I hope Carly found a way home from school. _"Sorry, ma'am."

My mom's face softened as she licked a hanky and tried to wipe the corners of my mouth. I grimaced, but allowed her to baby me in private. It calmed her nerves to see me as the dependent son. "You don't have to apologize to me, Freddie." She sighed, "We just didn't know what happened to you. You didn't answer your phone or the door… We're just glad you're alright."

_We?_ I glanced out the open door and into the empty hallway.

She continued to fuss about the state of my hair and flattened my collar. "Spencer called me all in a tizzy when you didn't show to pick Carly up from school. She thought you would be waiting in the library."

I groaned as I realized how terrible my day was turning out to be. Mumbling more apologies to my mother, I pulled myself off the couch and made for the apartment across the hall.

I reached for the doorknob out of habit before pulling back. I decided to knock first.

The door opened immediately, as if someone had been waiting for me behind it. Sam grinned evilly from within the apartment. "Hello, Failure."

I resisted the urge to sock her in the gut. I reminded myself that she probably kept Carly company while they waited for a ride. "Hey," I said curtly.

Sam granted my entrance to the apartment before joining Carly on the couch. They were eating fruit kabobs and watching cartoons. Carly had an open History textbook in her lap. "Hi, Freddie," Carly greeted me with only a little resentment in her voice.

"I'm really sorry, Carly." I watched her trying to ignore me. "I was up late helping Spencer and I fell asleep…" My mouth drew itself into a deep frown as I confessed to possibly failing my English exam.

I caught Spencer lurking in my periphery and immediately felt worse. _He probably thinks I am blaming him for everything._ Since Carly and Sam were still ignoring me, I left them in the living room and trailed Spencer toward his bedroom.

"Spencer," I knocked lightly on the doorframe of his room.

Spencer was sitting at the edge of his unmade bed, looking up at me with his hands folded in his lap. His expression was unreadable, so I tried a small smile. He shrugged in response, "Franklin Todd loved the sculpture."

My face relaxed into a more natural expression, "He would've been an idiot if he felt anything less." I sat beside Spencer and nudged him with an elbow.

"I shouldn't have woken you up last night." His eyes told a sad story that his lips wouldn't permit.

"No worries, man." I wasn't sure if he would continue or if he was looking to me to change the subject. I waited a minute more before filling the silence, "Camping trip is only two weeks away."

Spencer bit his lip before forcing a grin. I hated that grin the moment I saw it. "Yeah. That's coming up, isn't it?"

I struggled not to jump into a defensive mode. "I thought you were looking forward to it." It was hard to mask the accusation from my voice.

"I am," Spencer said convincingly, pulling me roughly to face him. "Freddie, I _am_ looking forward to camping with you." He paused to take a deep breath, "There's just… _stuff_ I need to straighten out. I wanted to be rid of this… problem… before I left the country."

_Eh?_ I had no idea what Spencer was talking about and I had never experienced him acting so obscure. He usually wore his heart on his sleeve, and I admired that about him. I was not a fan of secretive!Spencer. Mindful of my expression, I kept my posture open and urged him to continue, "Tell me."

I didn't think he was going to open up to me so easily, but I guess when you have only a handful of friends it's hard not to take an opportunity to vent when it's offered. Spencer began, "I'm sorry I kept you up all night, but I meant what I said. I couldn't have finished that piece without you."

I nodded, but remained silent.

"Socko was over here last night." Spencer groaned, remembering the events of the evening. "He was upset because between working on the sculpture and getting ready for the trip, I haven't been spending much time with him."

_Okay._ Carly and I had gone through a similar situation when Sam was dating Jonah. Sam was almost never around, and when she was her attention was preoccupied. I could understand a friend getting angry at that.

"Usually we hang out at his place," Spencer continued. "Well, as you know, I needed to finish that sculpture, so I invited him here. He could be with me while I worked." Another sigh, "I thought he would appreciate that, at least."

"He didn't want to sit around while your attention was on the sculpture," I offered before clamping my mouth shut.

Spencer gave a brief nod. "I think he wants to… I don't think he will be my friend for much longer."

I gave Spencer an encouraging pat on the back, "Don't worry about it. He'll come around. And if not, you'll make new friends." _Gosh, I sound like my mom._

Spencer shook his head and reclined against his pillows. His feet pressed against my legs in a cramped way. I moved around the bed, giving his legs room to stretch out. I settled into a spot next to him in his new position.

He looked over at me with a sad smile, "It's not that easy, kiddo."

I sighed with him, not knowing what else to say. We turned our attention to the beams in the ceiling; both of us reclining comfortably on pillows at the headboard.  
I imagined a dark sky lit with stars and the sounds of nature. Closing my eyes I inhaled deeply, almost tasting the fresh mountain air.

"Don't worry about that trip, bud." Spencer said softly as if in tune with my thoughts. "I wouldn't trade that for the world." His hand brushed mine as he adjusted himself on the bed and something squirmed in my stomach, sending a jolt past my belt buckle.

I sat up, startled, clutching my hand over my mid-section. _Where did that come from?_  
A deep rumble came from my stomach, eliciting light laughter from the man beside me.

"Hungry, kiddo?" Spencer brought himself to his feet and offered a hand to pull me off the bed. "Come on, I have some leftovers we can heat up."

I hesitated before taking his hand, which is silly, I know. He didn't notice my caution as I braced myself before grabbing his hand. What did I expect would happen? Whatever I was worried about never occurred. Spencer pulled me to my feet and released my hand immediately.

He nuked spaghetti and shoveled it into a taco shell, plopped the sloppy meal on a plastic dish and set it in front of me at the table. I was happy to accept the taco and ate greedily. I hadn't realized I was so hungry, thought I didn't remember eating anything all day.

When he handed me a glass of orange juice to wash it down, I deliberately overlapped our fingers to prove to myself I was overreacting. Spencer's hands were warm, soft, delicate and definitely not sending out bolts of electricity. _Nothing weird about that_, I told myself before taking a sip of juice.

I didn't give another thought about Spencer's touch. Not about the way Spencer's fingers tucked a stray piece of hair behind my ear, or the feel of his knees as they bumped against mine under the table. Not another thought.


	4. Comfortable Silence

I Go Camping

Ship: Freddie/Spencer pre-slash/friendship

A/N: I do not hate Sam, though it may be difficult to tell from this fic.

* * *

Though he never mentioned it, Spencer must have felt guilty for my catastrophic English exam. When we came home from our second exam day, Carly, Sam, and I barely recognized the apartment. Spencer had converted the living room into a study hall.

Sam was clearly annoyed and vowed not to come down from the iCarly studio until the firewalls were taken off of the internet and the television was returned to its place in front of the couch. Carly and I happily took advantage of the space Spencer had created for us. And with Sam out of the way, it was surprisingly easy to focus on our studies.

We quizzed each other for subjects we shared and kept quiet while the other re-read a particularly challenging chapter from the text. I smiled over at Carly, reveling in the easy comfort of her company. Her nose was buried in that history book again, and her lips moved as she read. It felt good knowing I could spend time with a friend without saying anything at all.

I sat back in my chair, working on the chapter review questions in my biology text. I was on a roll: sipping peppy cola, noshing on a fish stick, banging out review questions one after another. But something was missing. _Sam_, I thought begrudgingly. I was happy to be rid of her, if only for a few hours. Nodding to myself, _Yes, Sam is the missing link,_ I returned to my work for a while.

An hour or two had passed. The fizz was gone from my drink and the plate that had been piled high with crispy fish nuggets now held only crumbs. I scanned through my biology notes again, thinking I should really find out if I need to repeat an entire year of English.

Out of the blue, I felt a familiar tug in my chest. _I do not miss Sam,_ I reminded myself, waiting for the feeling to pass. But the sensation stayed with me a moment before fading into nothing. _Weird. _

"Carly," I looked over my book to see my friend nodding off.

"What?" She rubbed her eyes lazily. It didn't look like she enjoyed the study hall as much as I did.

"Where's Spencer?" I swiveled around in my chair, looking for our ever-present guardian.

She shrugged as she constructed a comfortable spot to rest her head using her backpack and some spiral notebooks. "Socko's probably," yawning, Carly curled her arms around her head to nap.

_Oh,_ I briefly wondered how Spencer and Socko were getting along. Watching Carly fall asleep, I had half a mind to tell her that she could have been much more comfortable in her bed or even on the couch. But I let her stay there. When she woke up and had a sore neck, I knew I would feel guilty.

I slipped upstairs to see what Sam was up to. I wasn't surprised by what I found. Sam had plopped herself into a beanbag chair and settled into a video game massacre. "Are you winning?" It was hard to tell enemy blood splatters from her own.

"Are you a freak?" Sam made a face at me as I sat beside her, then promptly returned to her game. "What's for dinner?"

I smiled to myself, remembering the fish stick feast that Carly and I had devoured earlier without offering any to Sam.

Sam looked over at me, expecting an answer.

"I guess I could make you something." I gagged on the words as they passed my lips.

"Ooh, domestic!Freddie; this I gotta see." But Sam didn't follow me downstairs. She sat on her beanbag and murdered her way through the next level.

I moved quietly through the kitchen, careful not to wake Carly as I clamored through the refrigerated shelves. I didn't cook often, so I hoped to find leftovers hidden in some corner of the fridge. No luck. It looked like I had eaten the last of the spaghetti. I frowned a bit as I thought of Spencer's famous tacos.

_If he can come up with something so absurdly delicious, surely I can cook Sam dinner. _I shuddered at the thought of doing anything for the murderous witch. I found the freezer loaded with waffles and ice cream. _Ugh_, Sam would think I was in love with her if I brought anything remotely tasty. I turned my attention to the cupboards.

_Beans._ The cupboard was literally filled with cans of every size, shape, and color of bean. Raising my eyebrows, I brought out a few cans and read the labels. The instructions were pretty basic: dump into pot and heat to desired temperature. _Hmph. _

Placing a small sauce pan on the stove, I peeled back the metal lid of a can. Syrupy bean juice dripped over my hand. Gagging, I turned the can upside down over the pot, smacking out the red beans. The smell, look, and feel of the canned food disgusted me. I laughed to myself, _Perfect._ I cheered up remembering that I wouldn't have to eat whatever this turned into.

I brought the stove to medium-low heat and started adding more ingredients to what I assumed to call 'soup.' The Shay kitchen was chock full of dried spices, so I sprinkled in a little of each. The refrigerator door supplied me with more 'taste enhancing' ingredients including: Cajun seafood sauce, ginger wasabi dressing, and mango chutney.

Making dinner for Sam didn't turn out to be a drag after all.

Letting it simmer on the stove, I started to clean up the mess I had made. The kitchen smelled like vomit and I wasn't surprised. I wiped down the counters with scented cleaner and scrubbed sauce drippings from the floor. I was crouched behind the kitchen island when Carly woke up, coughing.

"Oh, what the heck?" She stood from the table with her fingers clamped over her nose. "Freddie," She exclaimed nasally before repeating herself. "What the heck?"

I laughed out loud as I tried to explain what I had made.

"That's sick," she said after I had finished listing the myriad ingredients. Carly walked over to the stove with interest. She looked up at me with a mischievous grin, "Do you think she'll eat it?" Carly sniffed the pot, bringing herself to a coughing fit again. "What do you call this?"

I shrugged, "It _was_ soup. But it could probably pass for some kind of dip… Got any chips?"

Carly nodded and found a bag of corn chips stashed above the fridge. I poured the hot bean concoction into a bowl as Carly pulled open the bag. We decided it would be less suspicious if Carly brought up the foul snack.

I listened carefully from the kitchen, waiting for Sam to taste the first bite. I didn't hear anything unusual and figured Sam hadn't been brave enough to try the dip.

I was still scrubbing the sticky pot clean when Spencer came home. Thank God the dip was upstairs and the kitchen clean. Only a faint puke scent lingered around the stairwell, nothing he would notice. I was looking forward to Spencer's greeting and wanted to thank him for the surprise study room.

But Spencer didn't say 'Hi' or announce his presence. Instead, he walked himself quietly to his bedroom and shut the door. This piqued my interest. I would not normally describe myself as nosy, but in this instance that is exactly what I was. Shutting off the faucet and drying my hands against my jeans, I crept toward Spencer's room. I thought to knock, but heard him speaking to someone on the phone. Leaning closer to the doorjamb, I listened closely. It sounded like the argument had been going on for quite some time.

"No, I'm not going to do that to him… You're being ridiculous… I really hope you don't mean that… I am doing the best I can…" Spencer sounded more than upset, and I was willing to bet he was on the brink of tears. I stood where I was, unmoving, until I heard his phone snap shut.

I took a deep breath before knocking lightly on his door.

I heard him groan, annoyed, "Come in!" He turned away from me as I opened the door and closed it behind me.

I don't know what I thought I could do for him once I got in the bedroom, but there I was. Spencer stood in front of his closet, shoulders sagging while I thought of what to say. Unable to find the right words, I walked to his bed and sat down. I kicked off my sneakers and tried to find that comfortable position from the day before. Pillows propped behind me, I stared at the ceiling.

After a moment, Spencer was beside me. We stayed like that, in silence, until Spencer was ready to talk. It was a comfortable moment, just laying there, each of us absorbed in our own thoughts.

"I've been …friends… with Socko for a long time, Freddie." Spencer began, his voice low. My companion pinched the bridge of his nose, "I don't have any other friends like him." I watched Spencer's chest rise and fall in a heavy sigh.

I knew immediately I could not compare with the history between Spencer and Socko. From what I understood, they had always been close and Spencer had always spoken highly of him. I figured their own eccentricities balanced against each other made them a matched pair. But I slowly came to the realization that Spencer wasn't talking about losing a best friend. To him, Socko meant more. I kept quiet and let him continue uninterrupted.

"You wouldn't understand, but…" Spencer cleared his throat forcefully and swiped a hand over his eyes. "It's complicated."

Seeing Spencer so upset tore at my insides. My heart broke as he fumbled through his words. I wanted to tell him it would be ok, that he was great and Socko was a jerk. I wanted to comfort him the way he had done for me so many times growing up.

Spencer let out another shaky sigh before rolling onto his side, away from me. I could see that I wasn't being much help. He wasn't going to say any more.

Sitting up against the headboard, I reached my arm out to Spencer. My fingertips grazed his shirt tentatively before I placed my hand flat against his back. Starting between his shoulder blades, I rubbed circles along his spine.

The muscles tensed and then immediately relaxed beneath my palm. Eventually, Spencer's breathing evened out. I didn't think he had fallen asleep, but he seemed to have calmed down. My hand continued to move up and down his spine gently. Reaching his shirt collar, my fingers glided over the hot skin of his neck. I twirled a piece of his dark hair absently between my fingers.

My eyes focused on the smooth lines of Spencer's body. I admired the curve from his shoulder to his hip and my hand moved to trace it. I felt Spencer shudder beneath my hand and pulled back. My face blushed with embarrassment as Spencer moved to face me. His eyes were closed as his head brushed against my denim-clad thigh. Biting back a gasp, I waited.

Spencer casually threw an arm over my middle, burying his face between a pillow and my waist. "Thanks, Freddo," he mumbled half-asleep. The position didn't look comfortable, but I wasn't going to try to move him.

I dropped my hand to my side and stroked Spencer's hair, his head supported on my hip. I didn't trust myself to touch anything else.

I waited for him to fall asleep before slipping out from under his arm.

* * *

A/N: I figure they'll go camping in the next chapter. I'm excited to write that. :)


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